Our family settled into a new routine.
Fury never left the egg now. But Toothless did as he promised, eating with us the next day. While he would continue to pass up meals at times for her, he kept his strength up as she had asked him to. But throughout, he was looking at his mate, seemingly with misgiving of some kind. What though, he wasn't saying—to Fury, or any of us, at least that Eric could catch. Like Astrid had felt with Fury at times however, I sometimes felt Toothless was now a better mate to Fury than I was to my wife. He was at least an inspiration.
But three to four months of this, with no way to check on Miracle and how she was really doing . . . it was a lot to take.
At the same time though, by going through this phase with Fury, we discovered the world, even the rich culture in which Night Furies lived—their concepts of gods, life, rituals, everything. They were a society unto themselves, one that no outsiders had ever been part of before.
For one thing we often heard her gently humming . . . not moaning, but humming. One day we asked Eric to ask her why she was doing that.
"She says she is singing to Miracle," he conveyed. "So that Miracle learns her voice, and is made to feel good by it. It is also a link to Spirit," he added, "by which Miracle will find her way from Spirit to her body. She says that Miracle does not enter her body all at once, but bit by bit, as Fury sings the song. That is why Fury must be touching the egg as she sings, so that Miracle will find her way through Fury into the egg."
Astrid and I were just stunned. It was as complex a mythology and ritual, grounded and blended with practical experience, as any humans had ever devised. Astrid soon started humming and singing to our baby in her own womb, for just the same reasons.
"I want to invite our baby down from the heavens or Spirit, bit by bit," Astrid told me one evening between singing sessions, "to allow it to get to know me, and to make its transition to this life as easy as possible."
Astrid would even sit with Fury at times, and both of them would hum together, experimenting with different contrasts and harmonies, making the most ethereal and heavenly music together. It was a deep privilege to be around them when the two mothers sung. Toothless, I and our dragon and human sons became spellbound by it.
Fury would also gently rotate the egg around in its sheepskin nest, just a little each day, " . . . to keep it evenly heated," Eric conveyed as well when we asked. I didn't know whether this was instinct or intelligence, but I was awed by it.
— — — — —
Even though Fury's offspring and her new egg were outside her, she still seemed connected, even bound to them by invisible ties that were as strong as any ropes, or even chains. We could almost see the egg and its occupant drawing, almost sapping energy from her over the weeks that followed. We began to ache for Fury . . . seeing her quietly starve, yet still giving virtually all she had to the new life she was nurturing beside her. I began to sense why Night Furies were so rare—nature seemed unusually demanding, even harsh, as they patiently brought the next generation into the world. I could only imagine how many Night Fury mothers starved and even perhaps died out in the wild, trying to incubate their children before they hatched.
Late in the second month, Fury stopped singing to her egg. She no longer turned it, or even raised her head off the floor. She was suffering now. Toothless offered her life, regurgitating fish for her repeatedly, nudging her, pleading with her to accept his gifts of heart and spirit. But she continued to refuse. One day, we found him quietly moaning, crying for her as he buried his own face against her neck.
"This is taking too much from her," Astrid sighed to me, " . . . from both of them."
"What more can we do about it?" I asked. "Even Toothless has presented food . . . life . . . to her, in the most sacred ways imaginable to them. But still she refuses. Bears are known to go into hibernation and last for months through the winter without eating. Maybe this is something similar. Maybe she's just going into hibernation herself until the egg hatches now."
"Yes, she and Furies may have had to do that in the wild because they couldn't leave their eggs and their mates weren't around to help," Astrid replied. "But she's here now, with all of us around to help her. She shouldn't be suffering here for reasons that no longer exist for her. Motherhood shouldn't be this kind of hell for anyone."
"She seems to be hibernating now to me," I sighed. "I wouldn't disturb her."
"And if she dies?" my wife asked pointedly.
"Astrid, I just don't know what we can do, okay?" I replied.
"Eric," she decided calling him away from playing across the house with Little Toothless, "please come here and translate."
"Okay, Mom," our son sighed.
"Toothless, would you please come join me in front of Fury here?" my wife requested as well. "Hiccup, you, too."
"Astrid, I'd be careful," I cautioned.
"Hiccup, this is no longer just about Fury observing a tradition," she said, looking at me as she drew me close. "Our whole family's suffering here, especially Toothless, right along with Fury. Little Toothless misses his mom, too. It doesn't have to be this way. It shouldn't be, not for us.
"Fury," Astrid gently said, now turning towards her and sitting down in front of her, as my wife guided me to sit down beside herself, " . . . Fury, we need you to wake up and listen, okay?"
Toothless started to help. He gently nudged her head repeatedly until she woke up. Before Astrid spoke, Toothless reached over for a fish we sometimes left out as snacks for the dragons. He laid it down beside her head.
"Fury," my wife said as Eric translated, "you suffering like this . . . it's not helping Miracle. It's hurting her, your mate, Toothless, and the rest of us, too. So our family, together, is asking you to eat now. Spirit is providing you with food all around you, through us. Food, here, is the way Spirit means for us to live, otherwise we wouldn't need to eat. We could all exist being fed by Spirit alone. I can respect that this may be a strong tradition of yours. You may even think it's necessary. But for Miracle, and for all the rest of us, we're asking you to eat now."
Toothless began murmuring to her as well.
"He's saying that loving Spirit does not require such suffering, that it's time for 'The Hiding' to end," Eric conveyed as Toothless murmured to Fury.
"What's 'The Hiding'?" I asked, having never heard that before.
Eric conveyed my question and Toothless began replying through our son as he continued to look at his mate. "He says that Fury's mother never told her the legend," Eric conveyed, "but long ago their kind agreed to go separate ways, to protect their young after mating, so that they would not be found, and eaten, by those who came to dominate them.'"
"The Red Death dragons?" I asked.
"He says, 'Yes,'" Eric confirmed. " He adds, 'Believing in being fed by Spirit came to help mothers endure the hunger waiting for our children to hatch.'
"He's now saying to Fury, 'The need for hiding our young—for mothers to protect alone—no longer exists,'" Eric continued. "'This no longer helps our child. You do not sing to her. You do not turn her egg. We needed to protect our future one way once, but Spirit has allowed things to change now for us. We can nurture in the original ways we were meant to—singing, turning, loving. I want to join you now in singing to Miracle, to learn from you to do that. I have gone with your wishes for as long as I can. I ask you, Mate, now to go with mine—to accept this better change with me. For the good of our family, eat, live better, love with us, please.'"
"My gods," I quietly realized to Astrid, "they adapted, they changed their entire way of life—they gave up bonded, loving lives with each other—all to protect their young from Red Death dragons."
I noticed Toothless looking my way, as Eric now translated my realizations to him. He nodded and grunted back.
"He says, 'Yes,'" Eric confirmed. "'This story has passed from mother to child for many lives. We once lived and raised our children in love, together—until the ones who dominate came. For survival, we chose to separate and our mothers to hide after mating. We have known only fear and the need to survive since. Many forgot why. Now, we can know love again, thanks to you. We say Spirit requires mothers to guard their eggs and not eat. But it was survival that really did.'"
"Fury, are you hearing what Toothless is saying?" my wife gently asked.
Toothless now looked back at his mate. She looked weakly up at him, murmuring now. "She says she's believed in this her whole life," Eric relayed. "Her mother taught it to her. She finds what Toothless says hard to accept."
Toothless grunted again. "He's asking her, 'What makes sense?'" Eric translated. "'Starving for tradition alone, because it was told to you? Or starving to protect life and avoid detection? Dragons do things for reasons. We believe in Spirit, but not blindly. We sing so that our children know us, and to connect us with our child's spirit. We starved to protect our eggs and avoid detection, and to know Spirit better. Your family has forgotten the reasons. Mine has not. I tried to tell you when I asked you to stay with me after first mating at the city of walls after the battle, but you wouldn't listen. Nor have you listened since. My mother's ancestors have long been guardians of memories—remembering the reasons of legends, as well as the legends.'"
"Toothless," I said amazed, " . . . you're a dragon storyteller?"
"He says, 'I am a guardian'," Eric translated Toothless' reply, "'of both memories, and my family.'"
"Toothless, you're gonna have to tell us what you know sometime!" I marveled.
Toothless, grunted, shaking his head and then looking back at Fury. "Dad," Eric said, "Toothless says, 'Later,' that we're here for Fury now. He's asking her again to please eat, for all of us. He says, 'Spirit wants to ease hunger, not ask for it.'"
Toothless looked intensely at his mate for a moment, but then softened his gaze to one of love, and pleading. Fury looked weakly back at him, before she murmured.
"She says, 'I swore to trust you, always. But I have not here,'" our son translated. "'I will now though. There is no reason, other than blind faith, not to . . . and you are right, that is not our way. The Time of Hiding ends. The Time of Love returns . . . with us.'"
Astrid and I gripped each other tightly sitting on the floor as Fury reached her head for the fish while Toothless nudged it closer to her. Fury struggled to get it into her mouth and swallow it, but finally did as Toothless lovingly nudged the side of her head with his eyes closed.
He then reached for another fish, swallowing it himself, but soon regurgitating it back to her. She looked at him as she now accepted the fish this time . . . his gift of life.
"He says that this is how Giving Life began," Eric conveyed as Toothless now murmured some more. "'Fathers would feed and honour the mothers as they cared for the eggs. Now, it can be that way again—the way it was meant to be.'"
I looked at my dragon friend in a whole new way now. All this time, he was a guardian of his culture, a sage among his kind . . . and I never knew it. Toothless looked at me, seeming to know what I was thinking, and murmured.
"He says, 'You never asked,'" my son translated. "'I am still me, still your companion. There's just more in me. Why do you think I like to draw?'"
I just moved and embraced his head tightly for a moment. Toothless then murmured again, returning his gaze to Fury.
"He's asking for tea for her," Eric conveyed.
"It's coming," Astrid assured as she now got up as well.
Soon, we were helping Fury take her first sips of tea again as we poured small amounts into her mouth.
"Eat and drink slowly, Fury," my wife encouraged. "Your body needs to get used to having food and drink again."
Fury gently nodded after Eric translated, and then relaxed and nudged against Toothless.
"How she made it in the wild," Astrid wondered, "waiting for Little Toothless to hatch . . ."
"Fury says she nearly didn't," Eric translated back. "She just always believed it was required of her, like the pain of giving birth to the egg."
"Are you translating everything we say to them?" my wife queried.
"Most of the time," Eric admitted. "Now that they have me, the dragons—ours anyway—are really trying to know us, and learn our language. They enjoy sharing thoughts, and value understanding."
Astrid and I were both at a loss for words as we looked at Toothless and Fury close together as they looked at us. They were dragons, but also so much more to us now.
Whenever Fury murmured for it after that, Toothless was always right there with another fish for her. What the two dragons shared between them now moved Astrid and I to tears whenever we saw it.
It was a day of great joy and meaning for us all. The Age of Hiding among Night Furies was ending, and the Age of Love had indeed returned . . . all in our house, among our family.
It caused me to begin questioning every tradition and custom I had ever been taught however—what might be the real origins or reasons behind them, ones that could have become lost in the mists of time.
— — — — —
Fury was soon restored to health, and I think Miracle and her egg were now receiving more love than ever—especially with Toothless now singing to the egg, and gently turning it, right along with Fury. Both of them now had time and energy for Little Toothless as well.
I could see more clearly than ever that Toothless loved being a father and mate, just enjoying each day with his family. I would still have to tear him away once in a while for flights and fish runs. But as soon as we returned, he would carefully check in with both Fury and their son, and take care of anything they might need or want—even to the point now of fetching buckets of tea out of the cauldron himself for them before Astrid or I could. There were no limits to his intelligence or inventiveness.
As Astrid now progressed towards the final stage of her pregnancy, and Fury was still nurturing her egg, it fell to Toothless and I to prepare the meals, and keep everything else in our house running smoothly. He would fetch fish or meats from our pantry hatch, I would chop vegetables and brew teas, he would oversee the roasting. Once he sampled a lamb stew I was making for the human side of our family, and liked it so much that he asked me via Eric to quadruple the amount of stew I was making, even take over the tea cauldron for it.
"But you haven't liked cooked meat," I reminded him.
"He likes this," Eric conveyed from Toothless' grunting while he looked at me, "and he knows his side of the family will like it, too."
So we all ate stew that night, and everyone, both dragon and human, asked for seconds. Finally, a dish we could all enjoy together, even though it was a bit messy for the dragons.
With both Astrid's pregnancy and Miracle's egg almost ready to come to term though, we were all beginning to wonder which of our new children would be born, or hatch, first. Some of the men in the village encouraged me to start a betting pool, but I just said that I'd be happy whichever child would be first to join our family.
"Hiccup," my wife sighed one day as she lay on our floor mattress on the main floor now, "I can't even get up here. I feel like a walrus or beached whale. I must look so . . ."
"Beautiful," I interjected as I gently kissed and caressed her some more, lying close beside her. And as she rested in her loose white cloth nightdress, she was still truly angelic, and even enticing to me.
"You're gonna get yours, mister, when this is over," Astrid assured as she looked at me while lying on her back. "You are gonna endure so many nights of endless pleasure and indulgence, you'll be begging me to stop."
"I look forward to hitting me with your best shots," I smiled as I kissed her again, "your absolute best."
Astrid relaxed against me for a moment . . . before she began being seized by pains. "Hiccup," she grimaced, "I think it's time. I'm feeling wetness down below, too. I think my water just broke."
"Your mother will want you delivering on a proper bed again," I smiled. "So I think it's time we moved you over there, okay?"
"Alright," she accepted, still grimacing, as I stirred myself to begin helping her up. I then casually glanced down to look for the telltale spot on her nightdress that would indicate that her water had broken ahead of giving birth.
But I now experienced a cold shock. That spot was dark red this time.
"Astrid, something's wrong," I now hurriedly said. "Your water's red. You or the baby are bleeding. Let's move you to the bed, and then I'm getting your mom and the midwife."
"Hiccup . . ." my wife now said with growing fear in her voice as I helped her up.
"Stay with me here," I tried to assure while quelling a growing fear inside myself. "We'll be alright. Toothless," I now said, turning to him, "watch Astrid until I get back."
I now moved Astrid onto the bed with Toothless' help, before I ran out the front door of our home to find her mother and the midwife as he kept her company.
"Ingrid!" I called, finally spotting her outside, running up to her breathlessly. "Astrid's bleeding. Where's the midwife?"
"Oh gods, no," Ingrid responded in horror. "Go find the midwife. I'm going to Astrid."
"Midwife!" I yelled, running through the village. "Midwife!"
"Dad, what's going on?" Eric now said as I passed by him and Little Toothless.
"Your mother's going into labour," I quickly explained. "But it's not good. Please don't disturb her or your Nana right now. If you go home, just you two wait outside the house, okay? Have you seen the midwife?"
"Yeah, I think she was over by the vegetable gardens," he replied.
"Thanks, I'll see you at home soon here," I replied as I dashed off again.
Soon, I had brought the midwife home. Astrid was now both in the throws of labour, but also deeply fearful as her bleeding continued. This was no longer a joyous or loving occasion.
"No, Hiccup," Ingrid said, basically intercepting me as the midwife went to work. "This isn't a normal birth anymore. I don't think you should be beside Astrid this time."
"She needs me then, especially now!" I angrily said as I shoved past her to reach my wife.
Astrid was in hysteria when I reached her side, practically screaming in terror at the sight of the blood that was continuing to come out as she was also crying out with the pain of labour. She and I took each other's hand with an iron grip.
"Don't give up," I said with tears in my eyes. "We can make it through whatever this is, together. I love you, Astrid. I love you."
"Get these dragons out of here!" Ingrid now protested.
"Knock it off!" I now turned and erupted at Ingrid. "This is their home, too! And Fury's nurturing her own egg! So deal with it!" I was really getting tired of her bias against family and our dragons being around at times like this.
"But, Toothless," I added in compromise a little. "They probably need some more room to work here, okay bud?"
Toothless nodded and backed away from Astrid's side now, moving to join Fury over by the fire.
Astrid was still screaming in both pain and terror.
"Astrid!" I said, trying to reach her, laying my free hand on the side her face as she still gripped my other hand. "Focus, okay? Just breathe and push! Breathe and push!"
My wife looked at me for a second through her crying. She tried to form words, but couldn't. I had never seen such fear and panic in her eyes before. It was almost like we were looking at each other across a chasm of terror. Even though I was right at her side, it was like I couldn't reach her.
"Astrid," I said to her again as calmly as I could as she just looked at me, seeming utterly lost, in between rounds of labour now. I finally just moved in and gave her a quick, hard kiss—hoping that would bring her back to me, at least to hearing and listening to me. Both she and I knew that this wasn't just about giving birth anymore. This was now a fight for life . . . the baby's, and maybe hers, too. The possibility of death was now all too close.
"Focus, Astrid," I said deliberately to her. "Fight. Remember, we fight as one. I am right with you here. Focus, and fight."
She managed to nod as she looked at me now, even slightly smile as she cried again. I kissed her again hard to give my strength to her. This time, she kissed me back hard, too. She was with me again. We were ready to fight together.
She was now seized by another round of intense labour pains. How I wish I could have taken her place rather than almost helplessly watch her endure this!
"It's alright," I tearfully said as I cradled her head with my arm against my shoulder and neck. "Keep pushing. Just keep pushing."
We had settled into a routine for the moment—rounds of painful labour, followed by brief respites, where Astrid was able to receive more strength and love from me to continue.
"If I die . . ." she said between bouts of labour. I wanted to just cut her off and dissuade her, but I allowed her to continue. "Hiccup . . . if I die . . . I want you to find someone to take care of you, and watch your back. You're just not very good at it on your own."
I tearfully smiled at her, and she briefly smiled with me. "Okay," I said, nodding. "I'll do as you say, I promise. But only if you fight as hard as you can here."
She quietly nodded as well. We had a deal.
"Here it comes again," she grimaced as she gripped my hand hard once more.
I just held her tight and poured out my love to her as she screamed in agony in labour. My Astrid didn't deserve this. She just didn't.
Ingrid and the midwife had been very quiet down at the other end of the bed. Too quiet. Now, I finally heard words from them . . . "Oh no."
I hoped Astrid hadn't heard those words. I closed my eyes and lowered my head against Astrid, now knowing what had happened. Our baby was stillborn . . . dead. I wanted to shield my wife, protect her from this horrible truth for as long as possible while she went through the final convulsions of labour to push the baby's form out of her.
"You had . . . a daughter," I heard the midwife soberly say from the other end of the bed. There was no crying of a newborn, and aside from Astrid's heavy breathing now, not a sound otherwise in the house.
I closed my eyes tightly, striving to keep from crying myself. I gripped Astrid's head hard, trying to shield her ears, as her final labour pains subsided.
"Hiccup . . ." I heard her quietly say, " . . . the baby . . . where's the baby?"
"Astrid . . ." I said through tears, but they weren't tears of joy.
"No . . ." she now said with growing distress in her eyes. "No . . ." she repeated, now shaking her head.
I could only close my eyes and silently nod in confirmation.
Astrid now closed her eyes tightly, grimacing in a new agony—one of gut wrenching emotional pain rather than physical pain this time. She now cried out. It tore me apart.
"Astrid," I now sobbed with her, "stay with me here. Stay with me."
"My body killed the baby!" Astrid sobbed in wrenching anguish. "I killed it! . . . I killed it . . ."
"No, Astrid . . ." I sadly tried to assure her, now finding myself slipping into emotional shock as well.
Unlike the happy occasion around Eric's birth, I was at a loss this time. I tried to hold her, console her. But to my disbelief, she now turned away from me and resumed sobbing, wailing uncontrollably.
"Astrid . . . be with me . . ." I tearfully pleaded to her. But she remained turned away from me, curling up tightly into a ball on the bed, now clutching a pillow instead of me.
"Hiccup," I heard Ingrid say behind me. "Maybe I'd better take care of Astrid this time. This is no one's fault."
"Wh-What do I do now?" I said in deep shock myself as I looked away from Astrid for a moment.
"You need to take care of Eric," Ingrid advised. "Astrid's in no shape to do that now. You need to reassure him he's still loved, and still has his family."
"Who do I have?" I asked. "Who do I turn to?"
"Maybe we can talk later, Hiccup," Ingrid replied without answering my question. I had this horrible feeling that I was being left alone now. My wife, the one person I had turned to for years through everything imaginable . . . she wouldn't even cry on my shoulder now.
"Hiccup," Ingrid now hesitated as Astrid continued to sob on her own, "is there somewhere else you can go with Eric for now? Astrid needs to be encouraged to rest."
"She is my wife," I said with determination, not willing to take such advice.
"You cannot help her right now," Ingrid said. "Even you can see she has turned away from you. She hates even herself. This is what losing a child does to a mother sometimes. You, even your presence, will only cause her more pain at the moment. You have to allow her time to adjust, to heal. With some women this ends marriages, even their own lives. I will do everything I can for her, but you cannot help her. Eric needs you. Go please, Hiccup. Your father and I will arrange for someplace else for you to stay. And take your dragons, too, please."
"Astrid . . ." I sadly called to her as Ingrid basically pulled me away from her now, almost starting to hustle me out of the house. "This is my house!" I now yelled in tears. I barely looked at Toothless and Fury as I passed them.
"Dragons, out!" Ingrid yelled at them now.
I'd never seen Toothless look frightened and scolded before, but he was now. Both he and Fury were. Little Toothless had joined them and was cowering beside them as well.
"Hiccup, get the dragons out of here!" Ingrid demanded, admittedly at her wits end herself.
"In case you hadn't noticed, Fury has a nest and an egg in here!" I angrily pointed out.
"Then take it with you!" Ingrid countered.
Lesser Vikings would have pulled a knife or a sword at this point. It was all I could do to keep from doing so myself. All three of our dragons were snarling now at Ingrid, dangerously poised to strike, and kill.
That realization finally gave me pause. "Guys," I soberly said to the dragons, " . . . we'd better take it down a notch here, before someone gets hurt."
"If those dragons . . . !" Ingrid warned. She just had to chime in.
"If they what?" I tearfully shot back, cutting her off, and almost daring her to provoke my wrath, right along with the dragons. We seemed just inches away now from an open, and even violent, feud. I stared at her coldly, almost ready to kill her myself.
"Daddy," my frightened Eric said next to me, "we need to find a place for us and Miracle . . . before it gets dark. Miracle needs to be kept warm in her egg."
"Alright, Eric," I accepted, standing down now and turning my attention where it needed to be—on my immediate family and their needs. Fortunately, I was just able to carefully pick up Miracle's sheepskin-covered egg myself, although it wasn't light. I pretty much knew Fury wouldn't allow anyone else but me to pick it up.
"Toothless, Fury, Eric, Little Toothless," I said looking away from them all, "come with me. We'll pick up the nest later, when we've figured out where we're going. But we're not wanted here. We've been betrayed."
"That's not fair!" Ingrid protested.
"How we're being treated is not fair!" I angrily yelled back. "Our family swore we'd stick together, always! No matter how bad things got! This is a violation, a betrayal, of our vows! A betrayal of my heart! It was my baby, too! And that's my wife there! I need her! But I'm being thrown out of my own house! And I did nothing wrong! I tried to do everything right! I'm being told to take care of myself, and my son, by myself? No one's helping me! . . . No one's helping me . . ." I sobbed, kneeling as I set down Miracle's egg again for a moment, and just crying on it.
I sensed everyone in the house looking at me in stunned or saddened silence initially. Finally, Toothless nudged me, both sharing my pain, and encouraging me to focus on what needed to be done for us now.
"Thanks, bud," I sniffed as I tried to regain control of myself. "Let's go."
Toothless helped brace the egg as I picked it up again. Toothless and Fury both now gave icy stares towards Ingrid, and even towards Astrid still moaning in bed, as we left. My heart was beyond broken now as we all stepped outside our house. I wanted us to fly away from this accursed place, but we were trapped. We had Miracle's egg to care for, and there was no one else who could help Fury fly. I would not leave any of us behind here.
I just stopped in the middle of the village, having no idea in the world where to go now. And I was chief, to boot. But you find out who your friends are in such a crisis, and one soon walked up to me.
"Hiccup," Ruffnut now said with her youngest child in her arms, "I've just heard what happened . . . from the midwife."
I now looked down, unable to say anything.
"Would you and your family please come and stay with my family?" Ruffnut now invited. "It would mean a lot to us, to me, to have all of you over. I owe you this, too, for all you've done for me over the years."
"Ruffnut," I sadly sighed, shaking my head, " . . . I . . . I may have made a mistake . . . years ago."
"No, Hiccup," she assured. "Astrid, and her mother, are making one now. I and others will do what we can to set it right. Come," she invited, "come on over to our place now. Johann and I will get dinner on for us all, and I'm sure Eric and 'Little T' as we call him when they come over will enjoy playing as a change from all this with my oldest daughter, Roana."
"Fury needs her sheepskin nest brought over," I sniffed.
"Johann and I will take care of it, right away," Ruffnut assured. "You just come and get settled with our family now."
I just broke down and cried as I continued to hold Miracle's egg. Ruffnut put an understanding arm around me and led me, with my remaining family, off down the hill to her house. A number of people said, "We're with you, Chief," as I passed by.
"Thank you," I softly replied each time, but I couldn't look at them.
This was far more than the death of my second child now. This felt like the death of what had been my family, and to me, it was a needless and preventable death.
— — — — —
Soon Miracle's egg had a nest to rest in once again, and Fury settled around it, guarding it carefully.
"Come on, Hiccup, talk," Ruffnut invited as she settled me down by the fire as well, while she got her daughter to begin entertaining my son and Little Toothless with a game. Ruffnut now brought me a tall mug.
"I don't want to get drunk," I said.
"It's tea, alright?" she assured. "Johann doesn't drink much, either. You both are very good guys that way."
"Sorry," I apologized.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Ruffnut assured.
"Now the tables have turned," I just sighed out loud to Ruffnut. "Now you have the family with two children . . . and me? I'm left with a gaping hole in mine . . ."
Ruffnut moved to embrace me.
"You have your husband's permission for this?" I sniffed, reluctant to embrace her back and incite jealousy or justified revenge, as could happen in Viking culture.
"He and I have total trust in each other," Ruffnut assured. "We learned it from you and . . ." she then stopped herself.
"It's alright," I now assured as I drank some tea.
"If it's alright," Ruffnut suggested, "then accept a hug from a friend. You need one right now. I should know, from my past, when you gave me one . . . right when I needed it."
I allowed Ruffnut's embrace and just silently cried into the side of her head. Her hair smelled different than what I had long known with my wife, but I didn't care.
"Hic-cup, my friend," Johann now said with his Frankish accent as he joined us. "Welcome to our home. Ruffnut and I want this to be a refuge for you and your family. Please stay as long as you all like. I would even like your help on some projects when you are ready to take your mind off things, but not until then, alright?"
"Johann," I cautioned, " . . . you know I would have chosen your wife, if mine hadn't chosen me."
"If it had not been for you all," he assured, "I would not have even met my wife. I would still be a conscript in an army, and perhaps dead by now. My wife is right—we do trust each other, completely. Nothing more needs to be said about it."
"You are a remarkable man, Johann," I admired.
"And you deserve better than you have received today," he replied. "I am just glad I could do something to help."
As Ruffnut and Johann now got up to resume making dinner, Toothless now nudged Ruffnut.
"Apologizing for old wrongs, eh Dragon?" she smiled as she rubbed his head.
Toothless and Fury now watched Ruffnut go back around the central fire to their cooking area on its other side, before the dragons then looked at me. They probably felt like confused and suddenly homeless refugees . . . just as I now did.
"Don't look at me, you two," I sighed sadly. "I don't know what happens next."
"It's not your job to," Ruffnut noted. "We Dragon Riders, and friends, have your back now, Hiccup. You let us do a thing or two here. You've done enough. We don't let our chief down. We just don't."
"Wish someone else would learn that lesson," I sighed.
"You let me work on that, okay?" Ruffnut replied.
My remaining family had dinner quietly with Johann and Ruffnut's family, on the floor as Ruffnut knew our family was used to. Fortunately the dragons did not try to honour me with Giving Life—regurgitating gifts of fish for me—although what had happened to me today certainly called for it. I was only feeling half alive as it was. It would have been just a little much for Ruffnut and her family though.
Worn out, I chose to retire early after dinner. I wound up sleeping in the middle of our family group, with Eric and Little Toothless on one side, and Toothless encircling both me, and our children, from my other side. He was still right next to Fury though, as she continued incubating her egg. Both adult dragons seemed to be on full alert against any further threats to our family tonight however.
"You've got quite the family here, Hiccup," Ruffnut admired as she passed by on her way to bed. "You should be very proud."
"I am," I said, " . . . of these guys."
"It'll be okay," Ruffnut assured as she stepped into our family circle and knelt down to give me a kiss goodnight on my forehead. "The worst is over now. You'll see."
"I wasn't seeing far enough into the future, years ago," I sighed as rested my head on a pillow.
"You were," she smiled as she got back up herself. "Someone else just needs to learn a lesson here . . . and learn what they have, and where their head should be. I am so lucky now with Johann and my two children. But even if I lost one of them, I would never, ever turn my back on the rest of my family, as has happened to you."
"Thanks, Ruffnut," I said gratefully, " . . . for everything. You've changed though, you know that?" I admired.
"Getting some distance from my idiot brother and finding Johann made a big difference," she smiled. "Otherwise I'd still be the same screwed-up, annoying thrill-seeker. But get some rest here, and just get ready to forgive, okay?"
"Alright," I accepted.
Toothless now looked at me as Ruffnut left for bed. He gave me a calm, clear gaze, imparting his dragon's strength and determination to me. He wasn't going to let even this destroy our family, and he was calling upon me not to let it either.
But for the first time I could remember, I slept apart from Astrid that night. I no longer knew if she was mine anymore.